


Take a Breath

by 28crosses



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Breathe, M/M, No Smut, finding yourself, friends - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, take a breath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/28crosses/pseuds/28crosses
Summary: Louis doesn't know who he is or how to figure it out and then Harry steps in and shows him.





	Take a Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daintylouie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daintylouie/gifts).



Louis woke up feeling like he couldn’t breathe. Often, on the first day of school, this is exactly how he woke up. So he did his best to concentrate, pushing his mind to allow him to take control. It rarely ever listened. He told himself over and over “ _it’s the same group as last year, it’s the same group as last year”_ and within a few minutes, he was finally able to count _“in, two, three, out, two three”_ like his Mom used to force him to do each morning. He calmed himself down, felt his heart rate slowly go back to normal and then pushed into a sitting position to cradle his head with his arms. He’d be okay, his body would get used to routine again and he’d be okay.

 

He went about his morning with a slight drag to his step. Going back to school had always been completely dreadful when he was a kid so he didn’t know why he thought being a teacher would make it any easier. He showered, brushed his teeth, styled his hair into a slight quiff, put his contacts in and headed out to his small kitchen to start tea and toast. After breakfast he made sure all of his things were together, decided it wasn’t a terrible idea to be early to the first day and headed downstairs to his car.

 

His classroom looked exactly as he had left it Friday when he came in to make sure everything was in order. Sometimes, the custodians would come in and push things around for the final checkup before students are allowed in, but this year Louis seems to have lucked out. He logs into the computer, goes over the students in his homeroom and smiles at a few familiar names. His near-panic-attack this morning almost seems silly now. _See, you know these kids,_ he reminds himself again, willing his heart to stay at a normal rate. Still, as he pulls up his plans for the day and skims over them, his fingers tap on the desk impatiently.

 

It’s probably why he didn’t notice the knock, nor the clearing of the throat. He was so wrapped up in the tapping of his fingers and his syllabus that until the man spoke, Louis had no idea he wasn’t alone. He was startled with a, “Hello.”

 

Louis looked up instantly, his heart seeming to crash with someone sneaking up on him like that, and the guy must sense it because his eyes immediately cloud with worry. Which is, great, honestly. Everyone already thinks he’s crazy on the staff and obviously this man is new and going to think the same thing. So he wills his heart to start again, takes a deep breath and murmurs, “Hi, sorry about that.”

 

“No need,” the man says, “I’m the one that scared you.”

 

“Can I help you?” Louis asks, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

 

The man hesitates for a moment and then says, “I’m Harry, the new Social Studies teacher. I think I’m across the hall from you and just wanted to introduce myself.”

 

“Oh,” Louis says, standing up and walking over to him and offering his hand for a shake. “Hi Harry, I’m Louis. Been waiting to meet you since they told me you were on your first year.”

 

“Any advice?”

 

“The kids are great,” Louis says easily, taking a step back from Harry. “It’ll be a good first group for you. I’ve only been here a few years myself, but I’ve found that being a bit hard on them the first few weeks eases them into the year and allows you to have a firm hold on them for the rest of it.”

 

“Good advice,” Harry says appreciatively. “I’ll keep that in mind. I should probably set up though.”

 

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, swallowing slightly, “I’ll see you.”

 

“Across the hall and all that,” Harry agrees with a smile, turning around. Louis’ eyes follow him the few steps it takes to cross the hall and he realizes quite quickly that Harry is extremely pretty. He’s got mint colored pants on that seem especially tailored to him and a three quarter length shirt that plays to the tattoos Louis notices on his forearms. His hair, also, is pulled back into a bun, but it doesn’t seem messy so much as a sophisticated-put-together look. Louis then realizes he’s staring and turns back to his own classroom with a deep blush on his cheeks. The near-panic-attack from this morning doesn’t seem so silly anymore.

 

The day runs as smoothly as you can expect a first day to go after that. Louis goes over what they’d be learning about this year, the test schedules, points values, the books they’d be reading, the reading projects objectives and due dates and pretty much everything the students would see this year. They all seemed fairly attentive and Louis was quite happy with his day when it was all wrapped up.

 

He was pulling his sweatshirt on over his head when he heard a knock at his door, “Figured I’d knock this time, I didn’t want to scare you again.”

 

“Come in,” Louis offers and Harry smiles gratefully.

 

“I’m pretty sure I recognized on your syllabus that you’d have the kids’ reading the book about Emmett Till and was wondering when that would come into play?”

 

Surprised, Louis answered, “Probably near the end of the year.”

 

“Cool,” Harry says, coming more into the classroom and looking around quickly, “Because I have civil rights near the end of the year and I was thinking maybe, when it gets closer, you and I could try and figure out how to implement the two together.”

 

“That’d be nice, I think,” Louis agrees, writing a note out for himself. “Thanks.”

 

“Not a problem, I like the way you have this set up.”

 

“Just all my favorite quotes from all my favorite authors,” Louis says, clearing his throat, “Anything else I can help you with?”

 

“That’s it,” Harry says with a smile.

 

“I hope you had a good first day and the kids didn’t give you any trouble.”

 

“They were great,” Harry confirms.

 

“Good,” Louis says, pursing his lips.

 

“Are you ready for me to leave?” Harry asks, his eyes lighting up a bit with humor. Louis’ insides contract when he realizes Harry is joking with him. Harry must notice the change and softens his eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m just so used to joking around, I’ll leave you be. Have a good night, Louis.”

 

“You too,” Louis says as he grabs his bag, locks the door and races out of the building. He doesn’t realize Harry’s eyes follow him all the way down the hallway. Once he gets to his car, he allows himself five minutes to breathe before starting up his car and heading home. Eventually, Harry would give up on talking to him just like everyone else and leave him be.

 

For the next few weeks though, that seems to be the complete opposite of Harry’s plan. The kids instantly fall in love with him. Words like “cool” “funny” “energetic” “stylish” and more start going around the school, and Louis hears them quite often in homeroom. The other teachers, too, seem to really enjoy Harry’s company and openness. He says hello to Louis every morning and good night to him before he leaves. Louis finds himself responding most of the time and can’t really understand why Harry won’t just leave him be like everyone else. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist. When lunch assignments are given, Louis and Harry get put together. Often, Harry tries to keep up a conversation, but Louis isn’t much good at that, and more often than not Louis’ eyes will end up following Harry around the cafeteria as he talks to the students about their days. A lot of them have shiny eyes when they enter Louis’ classroom after that. He’s persistent, but Louis wishes more than anything he’d just leave him be. Every night, when Louis gets home, he practices telling Harry to just leave him alone, but every day he can’t seem to find the words.

 

It goes on like this for a while until finally, when Harry stops in to say good morning, Louis says, “You don’t need to keep doing this, I’m fine on my own.”

 

Harry leans against the door, confused, “What do you mean?”

 

“I’m fine on my own, I have been for a long time and you don’t need to keep saying good morning and good night to me. It’s okay. I don’t expect it.”

 

“I like to say good morning and good night to you,” Harry says.

 

“It’s okay,” Louis says again, his eyes following his hands as they start to tap on his desk, “You don’t need to do it anymore.” Harry stands in the door for a few minutes after that, but eventually leaves him be. On the way out that night, Louis can feel Harry’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t say anything. When Louis gets into the car, he feels like something is wrong, but because he can’t place it, he just starts the car and heads home.

 

The few weeks after that, Louis feels more down that he has in a long while, but he can’t place why. Lessons are going great, his students pay attention and do their work, and they do well on tests and read when asked to. He goes home, grades, makes a new lesson plan, sleeps, wakes up and does it all again. But on lunch one day, he realizes that he misses Harry. He misses their exchanges in the morning and afternoon. He misses when Harry used to push conversation out of him, and once he realizes that, he drowns in it. He hasn’t expected company with anyone outside of his family in a long time and the feeling of longing for someone he barely knows confuses him. And when he’s confused, he always calls his Mom.

 

“Hello, my love,” she answers.

 

“Hi,” he says softly, already feeling calmer just with the sound of her voice.

 

“How are you? How are the kids?”

 

“The same as last year,” Louis says, filling her in on all the things he’d gotten around to teaching in the last few months. He tells her of the small dramas he hears every now and then, of the students he wishes he could coax more out of and the wish that he felt more like himself so he could bring others out of their shell.

 

“Oh, Louis,” she says, shuffling around on the other end, “I wish I could take you back to those years when you were loud and obnoxious and constantly proud. I wish I hadn’t made you grow up so quickly.”

 

“It wasn’t you,” he reassured.

 

“Shush, we both know it was, and this new teacher you mentioned, do you like him?”

 

“He’s nice,” Louis says.

 

“This is the reason you called, then?”

 

Louis sighed, there was no sense in trying to get around his mother, “He was being nice, you know, and saying hello and good bye. He tried to talk to me a lot. But just like always, I pushed him away and he’s left me alone ever since.”

 

“And?”

 

“I think I miss him. Everyone else, once they realized I wasn’t worth much at conversation, just kind of left me alone. But I always catch him watching me, like he has to stop himself from saying hello. I don’t understand why and it’s making everything seem out of control. I hate when things seem out of control.”

 

“Breathe, darling,” she says, and so they breathe together. Once Louis calms down she says, “Why don’t you start saying hello to him instead.”

 

“He always comes in after me.”

 

“And?”

 

Louis takes another breath, “I’ll never be able to force myself to do it.”

 

“Talk to him on lunch then.”

 

“There are so many people around.”

 

“Louis, listen,” she says softly, “I know it’s hard for you to start a conversation and I know that just thinking about reaching out to someone you don’t know is going to put you into a fit, but you deserve friends just as much as anyone else. Give it a try, for me.”

 

“I miss you,” Louis says instead of agreeing, his heart beginning to race.

 

She sighs, “I miss you. Come see us this weekend, the girls miss seeing you.”

 

“They get me the whole summer,” Louis says with as much of a joking tone as he can manage.

 

“And they miss you the rest of the year.” Once he hangs up, he tries to imagine what he’d say to Harry and comes up with nothing. How do you tell someone you don’t know anything about to start paying attention to you again? He thinks of Harry’s bright pants, crazy shoes, constant need to have some kind of color surrounding him and wonders more about who he is. Because he doesn’t know him, and yet, he seems to be the only person Louis even notices anymore. He’s just so, open, about who he is. All of the kids are in awe of him and Louis realizes that he is too. He’s in awe of the effortless way he’s taken over the students, the staff and everything he comes in contact with.

 

With a start, Louis realized just how much of Harry he’s noticed since he asked him to stop saying hello. There were head nod and sighs aimed Louis’ way that he’d ignored. Louis knew Harry’s complete schedule too, knew their free periods lined up, knew when he took breaks for the bathroom and every way he started a conversation. He knew that Harry didn’t mind attitude but always made sure to discipline someone picking on another. He knew that he’d keep up with all the couples, make sure they were behaving in the hallways and seemed to always have his door open to any student that wanted to talk. Louis knew more about Harry that he knew about himself, it seemed, and he realized that he missed him even more than he realized.

 

The thing that had been missing all along was Harry’s hellos and goodbyes. It’s why he’d felt so weird these past few weeks. As he thought more about it, he tried to come up with a way to bring this up to Harry.

 

For the week after that, Louis once again practiced how to speak to Harry, noticing more and more that Harry never stopped noticing him, never stopped looking for him. Finally, before Thanksgiving break, Louis knocks on Harry’s door on free period and rushes out, “Do you think you’d want to spend our free periods together, we could grade papers?”

 

Harry barely takes a moment’s pause to say, “I think that would be very nice and would keep me from putting it off until last second.”

 

“I’d like that,” Louis says, nodding and walking out the door with flaming cheeks.

 

When Louis is locking up his door that afternoon, he hears, “Good night, Louis.”

 

He startles, his breath catching in his throat. He takes a breath, turns around and says, “Good night, Harry.” The smile that pops up on Harry’s face after that is as blinding as the sun. Louis falls asleep that night feeling better than he had in a long time.

 

Things go on like that for a while. They said good morning and good night to each other, Harry tries to pull Louis into conversation during their lunch watch and they grade their papers during their free period. It’s almost always a quiet affair, but it’s the closest thing to a friendship Louis had allowed himself in a long time.

 

When the winter holidays come up, Louis is packing up all of his things when a student knocks on his door. He smiles easily, recognizing that it’s not an adult and asks, “What can I do for you, Nichole?”

 

“I just wanted to wish you happy holidays, Mr. Tomlinson,” she says quietly. She walks in with shaking hands and offers him an envelope. “Merry Christmas.”

 

His smile widens as he says, “Thank you, I hope you have a lovely holiday as well.”

 

She nods, “Thank you.”

 

He undoes the envelope, sitting in his chair and pulling out the card. Inside is a gift card for his favorite restaurant and a note that reads _“thank you for all you do, happy holidays, may all your dreams come true.”_

“What are you smiling about, Mr. Tomlinson?”

 

The voice shakes him and his smile slips a bit until he recognizes Harry, “I got a card, from a student.”

 

“If I knew a card would make you smile, I’d have been getting them for you for ages.”

 

“Now you know,” Louis says back.

 

Harry’s grin widens, “Was that permission?”

 

Louis just clears his throat, “Are you on your way out?”

 

“I am.”

 

“Me too,” Louis says, folding up the card and putting it into his bag. “Mind if I walk with you?”

 

“Please,” Harry offers. They walk out together and Harry wishes him a happy holidays. Louis does the same in return and when he gets home, hangs up the card from Nichole. A smile spreads across his face at the simple gift and for the first time in a long time, he calls his favorite restaurant and has food delivered to him.

 

When he gets back from the holidays, Louis starts to notice little notes wishing him good day’s turn up around his desk. Some had smiley faces, some had jokes and all of them made Louis smile. After a few weeks of it, Louis says, “You don’t need to leave me notes every day, Harry.”

 

“I like to,” Harry says offhandedly, looking over an essay.

 

“But you don—”

 

“I don’t need to,” Harry agrees, looking up at Louis, “But I like to. I like to see you smile. You don’t do it enough.” Louis doesn’t know what to say after that, so he just goes back to grading papers.

 

After that, Louis begins to talk more. He feels worn out when he gets home, but in a different kind of way than he was used to. It felt good to sleep now rather than daunting. He was getting to know Harry while also getting to know himself and it felt surreal. By the middle of March, Louis was even able to keep up conversations with the other teachers. He could still feel the hesitancy of his coworkers, like they were treading water, but it felt nice to know he could talk to other people and not go into a full scale panic attack. It was still more difficult that he thought it should be, but he was doing it, and that was more than he’d had in a long time.

 

One afternoon, Louis had finished all his grading and ended up gotting caught up in watching Harry. It happened more often than he liked to admit, these days. He watched him write, caught on the cross on his hand, and asked without thinking, “How do you do it?”

 

“How do I do it?”

 

“How are you so proud of the person you are when you have people constantly telling you it’s wrong? How are you not sorry?”

 

Harry puts his pen down and looks up to meet Louis’ eyes, “What do you mean?”

 

“I—” Louis starts to say, feeling his heart start to race. He worded it wrong, Harry isn’t going to be his friend anymore. His breath catches and his head starts to spin, he feels everything collapsing inside of him. He did something wrong. He’s sorry. His breaths are short and long, where are his legs? It takes a while before he feels the hands on his face, before he recognizes green eyes, before he figures out he needs to breathe. He can see Harry’s mouth moving but his ears are ringing and he can’t make out the words with his eyes. Concentrate. Breathe, two, three. Harry is there. Harry is holding you. He doesn’t hate you. Breathe. Concentrate. Breathe, two, three.

 

It takes what feels like hours for Harry’s words to come through, but finally, Louis hears, “It’s okay, listen to my voice, I need you to breathe along to my words. It’s okay, listen to my voice, I need you to breathe along to my words.” He repeats it over and over again, his voice steady and strong. Louis finds himself breathing correctly again, feels his heart stop racing. He watches Harry’s eyes which are just as steady as the rest of him and he feels everything come back into focus. Breathe, two, three.

 

“Are you back?” Harry says softly, gently stroking Louis’ cheek. “Are you here? I can see your eyes are focused again. Can you talk to me, Louis? Are you here?”

 

“Here,” Louis whispers.

 

“There you go,” Harry says, “Can you listen to me?”

 

Louis nods, but Harry gives him a stern glance so he forces himself to say, “Yes.”

 

Harry takes his hands and keeps his eyes focused, “Are you scared of who you are or are you scared of who other people think you are?”

 

Louis thinks, “Who I am.”

 

“That’s it, right there,” Harry says, forcing Louis’ eyes back on him. “Eyes on me, Louis. That’s it. People can tell me that what I do, what I feel and how I act is wrong all they want, but I’ve never felt more alive than I did when I realized nobody else’s opinion of me matters. My opinion of myself is the only one that can hurt me.”

 

Louis gently rubs his hand over Harry’s cross, “And you aren’t sorry?”

 

“Never,” Harry says, tilting Louis’ chin up again. “I want your eyes on me. Keep breathing, just like that. God would never have made it possible for a man to love a woman, a man to love a man or a woman to love a woman if it wasn’t meant to happen. He wouldn’t make us question whether we want to be a man or a woman if He didn’t want us to have the chance to change that. He wouldn’t have allowed us to not want to be classified as one or the other if He didn’t think it was okay. If He thought any of it was wrong, He wouldn’t put us in the place to feel it. Do you understand that?”

 

“I don’t,” Louis whispers.

 

Harry gently undoes their hands so he can pull his cross necklace over his head, and he places it over Louis’. It lies right over his heart for a moment until Harry picks up the cross charm and says, “I want you to wear this, you can put it under your shirt if it makes you more comfortable, but I want you to wear it and remember something for me.”

 

“What?”

 

Harry once again lifts Louis’ chin and says, “Eyes on me, Louis. You can’t change who you are. You can’t change how you feel. You can’t force anyone to understand why you like men instead of women. But you can allow yourself to love who you are rather than fight what you can’t be. You can embrace how you feel rather than push it all down. If you allowed more people into your head, Louis, who you like wouldn’t matter to most of the people around you. Watching you slowly open up to me has been the absolute best part of teaching here and a lot of the other staff are so happy they’re finally able to get to know you. As soon as you stop fighting who you are, you’ll realize that so many people are ready to know that person. To see what I see every day.”

 

“What do you see?” Louis whispers, not trying to avert his eyes as tears start to fall.

 

Harry wipes a few away, placing the charm back against Louis’ chest, “I see a man who is tired of pushing everything down. I see you, finally realizing that it’s okay to be yourself and fighting what’s left of the person not willing to open up. I see you ready to shine in ways you’ve never been able to before.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“More sure than I’ve ever been,” Harry says.

 

They sit like that for a long time. Harry has Louis’ hands in his again and Louis is watching the cross appear and disappear under his thumb. They sit like that until the bell rings, taking them away from their own world and pushing them back into the real one. Louis’ class is assigned a reading assignment and he spends the entire forty minutes going over his conversation with Harry. He thinks of all of the things he’d said and realizes just how much he trusts Harry. How much he wishes he could be who Harry thinks he can be. When he looks at his desk he notices the sticky note that says _“I really like the glasses”_ and can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. A real one. One he can feel all over his body. He sticks it to the bottom of his monitor and promises he’ll do everything possible to be who Harry, his Mom and his sisters believe he can be.

 

Things get better after that, remarkably so. Louis starts taking part in things the staff put together, even outside of school. He hangs out with Liam, Niall and Harry occasionally at Harry’s when he invites them all over. Harry is quite the cook and he makes sure they all know it. Louis feels more included in things than he figures he ever has. And even more shocking, he realizes he likes it. He sleeps better than he has since he was a kid with only his Mom to worry about.

 

And his Mom notices the difference too. One night, she observes, “You don’t call me as much, love, but you sound happy.”

 

“I am happy,” he says softly, watching the muted pictures on the television. “I feel really happy.”

 

“I can hear it in your voice darling,” she says and Louis can sense the smile on her face. “I’m so proud of you. I hope that this feeling never, ever leaves you.”

 

Louis thinks of Harry, of all the notes he now keeps in a box at school. He thinks of Niall’s laugh and Liam’s kindness. He thinks of all the things that have changed about his life and somehow lands on his finger nails which he always would bite without even really noticing. He realizes that instead of the nubs he’d bitten them to, there was a slight peak of a nail above his skin. He smiles again, “I don’t think it will.”

 

They talk more after that, but Louis can hardly concentrate on it as he recognizes other things. He has take-out boxes in the garbage, phone numbers for delivery on his counter, food in the fridge and a book on the night stand by his bed. There isn’t a glass of water anymore to keep him hydrated when he wakes up unable to breathe, because now, he wakes up to an alarm rather than a constricting chest. And when he hangs up and sits on his bed, he realizes the most important thing of all. He doesn’t feel heavy. He’s looking forward to tomorrow, to the unknown and unpredictable. He wants tomorrow to come.

 

And tomorrow does come. It brings a smiling Harry, a few very forced jokes from Liam and some homemade cinnamon buns from Niall. He’s promised that Niall didn’t make them, but his lovely wife Lilah did. Louis says he’d like to meet her and Harry plans a get together that Friday, families included. At their “grade date” as Harry had started calling them later that day, Harry says, “I’m really proud of you.”

 

Louis looks up with a smile, “Proud?”

 

“You’ve really just, flourished, since our conversation last month. I’m proud of you.”

 

“I’m kind of proud of me, too,” Louis admits.

 

“Kind of?”

 

“Really proud,” Louis corrects.

 

“Really, really?”

 

“Shut up,” Louis says, throwing the closest object to him at Harry. It was a gentle throw, but Louis realizes too late that it was an eraser, and all of the chalk ends up on Harry’s shirt and chin, and a little bit in his curls as well.

 

“I can’t believe you just threw an eraser at me,” Harry says with a laugh, his eyes shining. Louis ends up joining him as he gets up to grab a few tissues to help Harry clean up his face. Most of it just wipes off of his clothes, at least. As he wipes, Louis can feel the heaviness of Harry’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t meet them. He just continues to wipe at the chalk and hope it all comes away.

 

“There you go,” Louis says softly.

 

“Thank you,” Harry says, his eyes following Louis to the garbage. Louis still doesn’t meet his eyes as he goes back to the table.

 

By Friday, the feeling of Harry’s eyes on him is mostly forgotten. He packs up his stuff, promises Harry he’ll see him later and quickly pulls a sweatshirt and jeans on when he gets home. He settles some other stuff before heading over to Harry’s, and once he gets there, recognizes the cars of his friends.

 

Inside, Harry is cooking already, so Niall opens the door and introduces Louis to Lilah. She’s beautiful and Louis is barely able to compliment her cooking before he recognizes Liam with his arms around someone. They seem to be having a quiet conversation, but Louis’ entire body goes rigid. He feels his mind close up and he is about to turn around and run when he catches Harry’s eyes in the doorway to the kitchen. Harry must recognize the signs of his panic attack because he quickly gets Lilah into the kitchen to keep an eye on things and Louis down the hall into his bedroom.

 

Louis feels useless as his heart constricts, as it races and pushes against his ribs. His mind is clouded and his eyes are watering and he can’t catch his breath. He’s sitting, though, and he can feel the movement of Harry’s throat against his forehead as he talks to him. He can’t hear, though, and all he can see is Liam wrapped around the man with the dark hair. All he can see is the one thing he has never allowed himself to have, the one thing he might never be able to have and the one thing he’s always wanted.

 

Harry keeps talking, but Louis still can’t make out the words. All he can think about is _“why does everyone but me get to be happy, get to be free?”_ All he can do is drown himself in the imaginary scenario of a husband, a family and a place where he can breathe. _“Why does everyone else get to breathe?”_

After a while, the thoughts stop coming and the tears stop falling. He just feels numb instead. Harry’s voice comes to him and he hears, “Come back to be, listen to me, you’re okay, you’re in my bedroom, can you hear me?” repeated over and over again. But Louis can’t answer. He doesn’t know how. If all it takes is the sight of a couple like him to put him back into his worst spot, how can he hope to ever feel that himself?

 

“I think I should go home,” Louis finally says, “You have guests and I’m not hungry anymore.”

 

“I think you should come meet Liam’s fiancé,” Harry disagrees.

 

“I can’t, Harry,” Louis whispers, feeling his chest start to tighten again. “I can’t do it. I can’t.”

 

“Hey, hey,” Harry murmurs, pressing his lips to Louis’ hair and planting a gentle kiss. That’s new, and startles Louis enough to make him listen. Harry kneels in front of Louis and once again takes his hands, “You’re doing so well, Louis. You know that. I know how happy you are with how you’ve been feeling lately. I can see it.”

 

“But if something like this is going to take me back—”

 

“Has it taken you back?” Harry asks, releasing one of Louis’ hands to point out the cross on Louis’ chest, the charm Harry had given him last month, “Because this is the first time I’ve seen you wear this outside of what you were wearing since I gave it to you.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to face what I can’t have,” Louis says, feeling the tears start to silently slip down his cheeks again.

 

“Who says you can’t have that?”

 

“I don’t know,” Louis says, it comes out as a whine, but Harry’s eyes only soften. “It’s like, I’ve hidden everything about myself for so long that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have that. To be like that with someone.”

 

“You know what I think?” Harry asks.

 

Louis wipes his cheek and smiles a little bit, “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

 

“I think that a month ago, you wouldn’t have been able to sit here and listen to me like this. I think that a month ago, you wouldn’t have let me take you to my room and work you through your panic attack, you would’ve run right home without a second glance. I think your heart wants one thing but your mind hasn’t caught up yet. But do you know what that means?” Louis knows he doesn’t expect an answer, so he lets Harry take his hands again and listens. “It means you’re in control now. It means that when you’re ready, we’re going to walk out to my kitchen, you’re going to meet Liam’s fiancé, and we’re going to have a good night with our friends.”

 

Louis was caught off guard with the finality of Harry’s voice and the use of the word “our” and felt his heart begin to race again, but this time, not with anxiety. It raced with a warm feeling spreading from Louis’ fingers all the way to his toes. And with a sigh he whispered, “I don’t think I’d be much of anything right now without you.”

 

“You’d have found yourself without me,” Harry promises easily, standing up and pulling Louis up with him, “But I’m happy to help and even happier to be the one that finds the part of you that you’ve hidden for much too long.”

 

“Do you think they’ll be upset with me?”

 

Harry shakes his head and pulls Louis slowly in for a hug, which is nice, because Louis can prepare himself for the closeness rather than be startled by it. He hasn’t been hugged by anyone but his Mom and sisters in a very long time. “I think you’ve worried our friends and they won’t mention it even once, they know how skittish you are, but they just want you to be happy.”

 

“Skittish?”

 

“Like a scared kitten,” Harry confirms, causing them both to laugh. Harry pulls away and watches Louis’ eyes for a moment before asking, “Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Louis promises, but Harry chuckles.

 

“Maybe okay can be our always.”

 

“Shut up,” Louis says, a smile forming on his face.

 

“There’s my favorite smile,” Harry says with a grin. He turns around to open the door and Louis feels the odd warmth spread through him again before following Harry out to meet their friends.

 

Harry was right, of course. None of them bring up Louis’ disappearance. They all seem rather relieved that he’s alright instead. And Liam’s fiancé’s name is Zayn. He’s a local artist who dedicates most of his time to teaching children at the local hospital how to use art as an outlet from their various pains and struggles. They call him an “art therapist” which, in Louis’ opinion, is the coolest job a person can have. He finds himself chatting back and forth with Zayn for most of the night and before Liam and Zayn leave, gets his number so he can attend his next gallery. Niall and Lilah leave not too long after and Louis stays to help Harry clean.

 

When everything is put away, Louis catches Harry’s eyes on him more often than not as he goes about making sure he has everything. Louis’ not sure why, but Harry’s gaze makes him feel rather blushy.

 

Harry has the door open for him and Louis wants to thank him, for tonight, but he doesn’t much know how. So as he’s passing through the door he makes an effort to go up on his toes and press his lips gently to Harry’s cheek. His cheeks immediately brighten, but Harry’s just grinning, still holding the door.

 

“Thank you,” Louis says softly.

 

Harry seems to know that Louis doesn’t mean just tonight and says, “Always.”

 

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

 

“You will,” Harry promises, and there’s not anything else to say after that, so Louis heads to his car and feels the unexplainable warmth even when he gets into bed and falls asleep.

 

Weeks go by and Louis’ classes are full of the Civil Rights movement and the students loving the correlation in Louis and Harry’s classes. They want to learn so they can keep up and the effortlessness of the attention is so rewarding that Louis exclaims, “I don’t have one grade under an 80 on this test, I can’t believe how well this has worked out. I wish you had been here from the moment I started.”

 

Harry grins, “And I don’t have a great under a 78.”

 

“Who’s the 78?”

 

“Travis,” Harry says, “I don’t think he’d fond of the book, it seems to be the part he’s missing on.”

 

“I’ll talk to him,” Louis promises.

 

“Nichole has had a 100 on the last three homework’s,” Harry says with a smile, “She’s really come out of her shell these last few weeks.”

 

“She has, hasn’t she?” Louis agrees, seeing a 98 on her test. It takes him back to the Christmas card and the shaking in her hands. He’d felt much the same at the time. He wondered if she was feeling better these days.

 

“I think she’s quite fond of you,” Harry says with a smile.

 

“She’s a good student,” Louis says happily.

 

“Not what I mean, Lou.”

 

Louis still wasn’t much used to Harry calling him Lou. It’d only been happening for a week now, but it made him smile every time. “I think she’s really learning, I think all of them are. This has been probably the best teaching method of all time.”

 

“Of all time?”

 

“All time,” Louis confirms, watching Harry’s dimples pop out as he chuckles.

 

“Can you believe the year is almost done?”

 

Louis thinks for a moment before saying, “It’s been a long year, I’m excited for the summer. I can’t wait to see my little siblings all the time again.”

 

“Doris and Ernest?”

 

“You remember!” Louis says happily, Harry just nods fondly, allowing Louis to continue, “Ernest wants to learn to ride his new bike this summer and Doris wants to learn to swim so I’m sure I’ll be busy with that, and Lottie is flying to England for her makeup school. I think Fiz is going to be interning with Mom at the hospital too, which will be nice, for her to have work. And the older twins are in their final years of high school which I’m sure will make them a handful this summer, but they’re helpful with the younger twins.”

 

“Sounds exciting,” Harry agrees, “Phoebe and Daisy won’t be working this summer?”

 

Once again, Louis is struck by Harry’s memory as he says, “Mom isn’t going to make them because I can’t always baby sit so the little twins need someone around, but I’m sure they’ll be forced into it once school starts again.”

 

“So you will have time for me then?”

 

It’s then that it occurs to Louis that he won’t be seeing Harry every day in a few weeks, “I guess I didn’t think of that.”

 

“Don’t worry, I have,” Harry says with a smile, “I’ve worked you into my very blank schedule and I hope you’re able to work me into yours.”

 

“I will,” Louis promises, “Maybe you can help me out with the twins sometimes.”

 

“Me and kids get along exceptionally well,” Harry says with a grin, and Louis rolls his eyes. He bets they do. But Harry can’t seem to look away now, “You just rolled your eyes at me.”

 

“You deserved it,” Louis counters, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“You have never once done that in the entire time I’ve known you.”

 

“It’s pretty much my specialty,” Louis says, “My Mom used to get so mad at me when I rolled my eyes at her.”

 

“So what you’re telling me is that there is some sass in there?”

 

“Oh, Harry,” Louis says, “You don’t know the half of it.”

 

“Well, Tomlinson,” Harry says, his eyes turning a brighter shade of green at the taunt, “You can bet I’m going to find out.” When Louis leaves the room he realizes that’s the first time he’s done anything close to flirting in years. And he blushes when he realizes that Harry had flirted right back.

 

The last day of school brings a glow to the students that Louis recognizes as happiness. He’s quite fond of this class, now that he’s known them for two years, and exceptionally proud of their knowledge. He thinks they’ll make a great group of high schoolers and ends up signing lots of year books. A couple of the students show him a couple pictures of him and Harry that made it in, and in both, Harry is watching Louis with a look of something that can only be described as admiration. It both shocks him and enlightens him, to know that someone like Harry helped Louis so much. To know that someone like Harry refused to give up on someone like him.

 

Nichole comes to him just before the final bell rings and asks, “Could you sign my book?”

 

“Absolutely,” he says, but she doesn’t offer it to him. When he looks up, he recognizes the blush of embarrassment on her cheeks and goes back to his conversation with Harry a few weeks ago. He had said _“I think she’s quite fond of you”_ and Louis hadn’t thought much about it before now, but he felt slightly uncomfortable with the implication now.

 

“I just, I wanted to thank you, before I left today. Um, I’ve kind of, well, you see,” she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, and Louis waits patiently for her to continue. Children have never pushed his anxiety out of control like adults do. “I’ve noticed that you’ve, sort of, embraced who you are. You seem much happier than you have in the time you’ve been my teacher. And, I, I was really lost, you see. And then Mr. Styles came, and I think you know what I mean when I say he really helped me recognize what I was hiding from and told me in one way or another that I didn’t need to hide. Just in the way he acted, he told me that who I am is okay. But I don’t think that was enough.”

 

She pauses, her eyes on her feet, so Louis asks, “What do you mean?”

 

“I watched you. Watching Mr. Styles is hypnotizing because I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone embrace themselves so thoroughly. But, watching you, I don’t even know what to call it, I guess, watching you bloom, was the most rewarding part of the year. I know that’s probably a really weird way to put it, but it mean a lot to me to know that someone else got out of a funk like mine. I just, hope you know, that you’ve really helped me. And I wanted to thank you too. For your strength, and your courage. I’m going to miss sitting in your class.”

 

Louis gives her a watery smile, “Thank you, Nichole. That is so sweet of you. I’ll miss having you in my class.”

 

“I’m going to try and embrace myself too.”

 

“I know you can,” Louis says, taking the year book she offers him. He writes _To a summer of embracing yourself, recognizing you’re enough and learning all the things school can’t teach._ She offers him another smile before walking out the door, leaving him staring into Harry’s classroom. He’s talking to another student, his dimple prominent as he nods along to whatever is being said. And once again, he feels that warmth push through his veins and begin to vibrate within him. When the student leaves, Louis stands up without thinking and walks across the hall.

 

Harry sees him and begins to say, “Almost done, just have to—” before Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, pushes onto his toes and presses their lips together. Harry catches up instantly, gripping Louis’ hips so they don’t tip over and kissing him back just as enthusiastically. Their lips move together as if they’ve never been meant for another pair. And when they both pull away, breathless, Harry finishes with, “Pack up my stuff so we can meet our friends out for food.”

 

Louis laughs and presses their lips together again, “I’ll go grab my stuff too.”

 

They walk out of the school, both with grins on their faces and Louis feels lighter than he has in years. Full of air rather than breathless.

 

~*~

 

Harry had texted him yesterday afternoon and asked him to be ready by four in the morning for him to be picked up. Louis had asked why and Harry had texted back a simple _Trust me_ in return. Louis hadn’t questioned it after that, he’d trusted Harry for a long time now. So here he was, standing at the apartments doors and waiting for Harry’s car to pull up. When it does, he’s surprised to see Liam and Zayn in the back and scoots into the front seat hesitantly.

 

Harry leans over to kiss his cheek and whispers, “Good morning.”

 

“What are we doing?” Louis asks in return, looking back at his sleeping friends.

 

“It’s a secret,” Harry whispers back, and then they’re driving. Liam and Zayn wake up around seven, so they stop for breakfast, and when they get back in the car Harry promises they only have a couple more hours to go.

 

“I don’t have an overnight bag,” Louis says.

 

“I have extra clothes,” Harry says with a grin.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Secret,” Harry says again. So Louis just sighs and joins in on conversation when it seems appropriate. Harry pulls into a train station around ten and they all get tickets into the City.

 

“The City?” Louis asks.

 

“Still a secret,” Harry says. They go back out to the car and when Liam and Zayn shed their coats, everything seems to click. They’re wearing “his and his” shirts and Zayn has a rainbow of gems underneath his eyes.

 

“Pride?” Louis whispers.

 

“Oh, sorry, H,” Liam says, seemingly forgetting that they must’ve been told to wait to get all dressed up until a certain point.

 

“It’s okay,” Harry says, turning Louis to him, seeing the panic rise in his eyes, “Listen to me, Lou.”

 

Louis nods but Harry gives him the look he always does when he’s waiting for Louis to say something, “Yes, okay.”

 

“I haven’t told you about this because I knew you’d freak yourself out and find a way or a reason not to come. And me, being me, wouldn’t have made you. But this is the most wonderful way to recognize that you aren’t alone and you never have been. You have me, Liam, Zayn and a whole community of people ready to take your hand today and show you how incredible it is to be you. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you were ready.”

 

“I’m not,” Louis says, looking around and seeing other people getting out of their cars with rainbow gear on.

 

“You are,” Harry says.

 

“I’m not,” Louis whispers.

 

Harry tilts his chin up so their eyes meet, “Is your heart racing?”

 

Louis takes a moment to figure out how his body feels and realizes with a start, “No.”

 

“Trust me,” Harry says, pressing their lips together for a moment. Louis releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and allows Harry to tuck him under his arm. He declines Liam’s offer to have rainbow gems under his eyes as well and watches as Zayn paints a rainbow onto each of their cheeks. Harry looks absolutely breathtaking in the end with his hair half up, his favorite “love is love” shirt on and a pair of dark jeans. He looked like the absolute image of someone ready to take on the ideas of the people who have no right to be judging him. Louis is in awe, as always.

 

They get on the train and enter the City together, seeing more and more people walking around holding hands. Rainbows are everywhere and Louis is blinded by the comfortability of the City as people that feel like he does walk around with it basically written on their chests. Proud. Happy. He looks to Liam and Zayn who are wrapped around each other, smiling and laughing, and he realizes that he should be doing that too. Harry hasn’t pushed him any further than he was comfortable but in that moment, watching Zayn and Liam, he realizes just how much he wants to feel like that. So he looks for Harry’s hand and the moment he intertwines their fingers, Harry’s eyes are on him.

 

“It’s okay, Lou, you don’t—”

 

“I want to,” Louis says firmly. He doesn’t let go for the rest of the day.

 

They meet so many people. All of them are holding hands, kissing, hugging, dreaming and whisking away all ideas that they are different from anyone else. _Love is love is love is love_ he keeps hearing people say. Times Square is full of rainbows and dancing and love when they finally get there and Louis lets himself go. He wraps himself around Harry and feels himself moving with the crowd. He sees laughter, friendship, belonging and something more, something like family. And wrapped up in it all, he pulls Harry down for a kiss. It’s the first time they’ve kissed in public since that first time in Harry’s classroom. But this time, it’s not out of need, it’s because Louis wants everyone to know that he’s in love with Harry. He’s in love with him.

 

“I’m in love with you,” Louis gasps out, the crowd burying his words. So he says it louder, “I’m so in love with you.”

 

Harry’s grinning, and then spinning Louis around. He pushes their foreheads together as the crowd barely notices their exchange. But Harry’s the only one in the entire world, “I’m in love with you.”

 

“I’m in love with you,” Louis repeats, a few tears leaking from his eyes. “I’m in love with you, Harry. I’m in love with you.”

 

“I love you,” Harry says.

 

“I love you,” Louis responds. And then they’re kissing, right there, in the middle of the City, for everyone in the world to see. At least, that’s what it feels like. They meet Liam and Zayn back at the train, both of them looking about as elated as Louis feels and Harry checks them into a hotel he’d reserved a few weeks ago.

 

After all of the effects of the day are erased from their skin and they’re wrapped up in each other for the night, Harry strokes Louis’ cheek and asks, “How do you feel?”

 

Louis’ mind wanders at the question. How _does_ he feel? He reflects on the day and all the things he never thought he’d be comfortable enough to endure. He thinks of the happy duo they’d spent most of their time with, Leslie almost always placed in Rachel’s lap. He thinks of the drinks they’d shared, meant especially for the celebration of a love that was once thought to be forbidden. He thinks of the laughter, the light, the dancing, the comradery, the passion and the love and he says, “I feel like I can breathe again.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at @helianthuslou on twitter if you maybe wanna tell me what you think :) thanks for reading.
> 
> extra thank you to my bri!! couldn't have written this without you x


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